


Indelible Ink

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: All The Pastries Forever, Angst, Artificer Emphasis On Art, Artificers Probably Don't Work That Way, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Comfort, Crying, Fantasy Cigarettes, Gen, Magical Tattoos Are The Best, Mechanical Companions Are So Cool, References to Past Torture In A Non Graphic Way, Scars, Self Indulgent And Proud Of It, Tattoos, This got away from me, also coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Jester wants a tattoo and she's found the perfect artist to do it. The question is, can she pay for it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this right after episode 8 of the new campaign so a lot of the details aren't going to match up, not that anyone has ever seemed to have a problem with that, and I did go back and tweak some things. Still, just a heads up. I popped the rating up to Mature because I'm cautious like that. It's a very light mature.
> 
> This fic makes references to both A Light Through an Open Window and Up With The Sun. You don't have to have read those to get this, but I totally won't stop you from doing so! Basically all you need to know is that Molly knows Celestial because Yasha taught him and that Molly once compared Jester to a hummingbird and she was delighted about this to no end.
> 
> This fic was supposed to be a quick little thing I wrote up between episodes. Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahahahahaha. Don't worry, there is plenty of interaction between canon characters, this isn't ALL about my OC. Promise.
> 
> Thank you to @CinWicked for helping me figure out what even the heck class would be ABLE to tattoo someone like I was thinking of.

Molly wasn’t used to big cities, but he felt he _could_ get used to them. The center of the city didn’t interest him much, where the more well to do folk lived, and where he can see the spires of the building that was the sister to the Soltryce Academy. The Pentamarket though, there were shops and carts with all manner of interesting things, and all around were people going about their business, and watching them was even more interesting than the shops. His first full morning in Zadash he found himself sitting at a table outside a bakery with a mug full of coffee (honest to gods _decent_ coffee) and watching Jester eating a pastry that had three types of chocolate it and at least one ingredient he couldn’t even pronounce.

They had the morning to themselves, more or less. Caleb and Nott were holed up in their room, Caleb putting his purchases of ink and paper to good use. Fjord had gone to the sister school of the Soltryce Academy that morning, to find out what he would need to even _try_ to get into the Academy proper. Beau had snuck out some time in the night, which Molly had discovered when Beau came back to the inn covered in bruises and with a dreamy smile on her face. Either it was secret monk things or Beau was into some kinky stuff and Molly was _not_ going to follow that path of thought to its end, because no.

Jester and Molly hadn’t had the smoothest start to their morning. Jester was pretty much broke, having spent most of her money on what Molly had to admit was a most impressive bag that could hold just about anything while weighing nearly nothing. She had insisted that they go to the Pillow Trove and see if the money she had asked her mother for had arrived yet. Molly had agreed readily enough, but what he had thought would be a simple errand had hit a snag because of course the Tri-Spires was where the more well off folk lived and worked and well, neither Molly or Jester fit into that mold exactly, though Molly was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Jester did technically come from money. There had been plenty of stares and glares as they had walked the streets, which Molly was used to. He had just fixed his friendliest smile upon his face and kept walking. Jester had kept chatting with him as if she was oblivious to the looks they were getting, but Molly had noticed that she had walked a little closer to him than usual, talked just a little bit louder.

The real problem was the Pillow Trove would simply _not_ allow tieflings to cross their threshold, no matter how much gold Molly flashed in the direction of the servants at the doors or how charming his words were. Jester had argued with them until one of them threatened to call the guard on them both, at which point Jester had dramatically sighed and walked away. Molly, who had known this wasn’t over, flashed the servants an even _friendlier_ smile, the one that showed _all_ his teeth, and had gone after her. He wasn’t at all surprised when she had ducked behind the corner of a building and emerged magically disguised as a simply stunning human woman. Molly had watched her walk back towards the Pillow Trove and be let in immediately, because of course she would be.

Jester had come back several minutes later, dropped her disguise, and together they had walked towards a much friendlier part of town. “Nothing yet,” Jester had said in a slightly higher tone than usual. “But I know she’ll send me money. She’ll want to make sure I’m okay and I don’t starve or anything. It’s just, the world is so big, you know? It’s going to take time to get here! That’s it.”

“Of course,” Molly had said, looking at Jester’s smile, as fragile as spun sugar. It made his heart ache, how quickly he had come to care for her, and for the rest of the group as well. “How about we go find a nice little bakery and eat something with no nutritional qualities to speak of? My treat.” He currently had more money than he knew what to do with, (not all in one place, of course, and much of what was on his person was hidden), and he had to admit it was _nice_ being able to just buy things, and his offer had made Jester’s smile firm up into something more solid.

So now there they were, and Molly was sipping his coffee and trying to shake off the feeling of mild dread that was slowly creeping up on him. Jester was pre-occupied with her pastry, which she was eating one handed while drawing something in her sketchbook with the other, occasional crumbs showering the page. Molly had to smile a little at that as he took out his fortune telling deck, mostly to give himself something to do with his hands. _Shuffle shuffleshuffle flip._

The card Molly found himself staring at was the Bound Angel, a winged figure tied by the red strings of fate, reversed, falling instead of rising. Falling away from your destiny, instead of rising to meet it. Tragedy instead of triumph. Molly frowned and returned the card to the deck. He didn’t think it was his card, at least, he rather hoped it wasn’t. _Shuffle shuffle shuffle._ Angels made him think of Yasha, of course, though she wasn’t one as far as Molly understood it, just like Molly and Jester weren’t demons. Yasha said she would meet up with him in Zadash, and Molly believed her, but things could have happened between there and here. Things always could have happened.

 _Shuffle shuffle shuffle flip._ The Bound Angel again, reversed. _Shuffle shuffle shuffle flip._ Same. _Shuffle shuffle shuffle flip._ Same. Molly stared at the card for another few moments before putting it back in the deck and putting his cards away. He had gone from mild dread to deeply unnerved. Was it too early in the day to start drinking? Hells, he’d settle for something as mundane as a regular tobacco cigarette, though he was sure he could find something a little more exotic in a town this size. Just something to make him feel less like he was going to twitch straight out of his skin.

“Hey, Jester?” Molly looked over the table at her, about to ask if maybe they could go and do some shopping, when what she was drawing caught his eye. “Are you drawing a very large wolf made out of metal?”

“Yes!” Jester said happily. “I have never seen one before, and I bet the Traveler hasn’t either! The person in the hooded cloak sitting at that table over there has one.”

Molly blinked, then slowly turned his head, as casually as he could. There was indeed someone in a blue hooded cloak, face obscured, sitting a few tables away from them, and yes there was a large dire wolf made entirely of plates of some sort of silvery metal sitting next to their chair, citrine yellow eyes glowing in the sunlight. Molly would have thought it was a statue except every so often its eyes moved to look at the people passing around them.

“Well, that’s _interesting_ ,” Molly said thoughtfully. His eyes flicked back to the person in the cloak, who seemed to be drawing something in a large leather bound journal. They had a quarterstaff leaning against their chair, and two bags stowed underneath their table, one of which looked like Jester’s new bag, except not pink, and also not new, the leather very much worn.

“Isn’t it? I wonder where they got it.” Jester was out of her chair and three steps towards the stranger’s table before she had even finished the sentence. Molly stood up and made to follow her, honestly glad for the distraction.

“Hi! Excuse me?” Jester said as she got closer to the stranger’s table. “Where did you—“

The metallic wolf stood up and put itself between Jester and the table, mouth open slightly to display razor sharp teeth, its tail lashing. It didn’t growl, but it was obvious that the wolf thing didn’t want Jester coming any closer. Molly’s hand twitched toward the hilt of one of his swords.

“Freki, down,” said the stranger, and then mumbled something, hands moving quickly in a way that almost tickled Molly’s memory, the leather armor under their cloak creaking. The wolf sat with a clank as the stranger pulled back the hood of their cloak, revealing a human face slightly worn by either time or hardship or both. Their features were as striking as the tattoo on their face, a trail of small silver and blue stars that started at the corner of their right eye and traveled down their cheek and over the side of their neck and collarbone, widening as it went down their shoulder and arm, ending in a scatter of constellations across the back of their hand. At least, Molly thought it was a tattoo, he had never seen ink shimmer and sparkle the way this tattoo did.

The stranger looked at them, expression sheepish and light green eyes full of embarrassment. “Ah, sorry about that,” they said, running a hand through short-cropped hair the faded red-orange of a fox’s coat, the color shot through with occasional gray. “I’m used to being on the road, by myself, and I forgot that here I should tell Freki to watch, which is a little less aggressive than guard. Sorry if he scared you.”

“Oh that’s okay,” Jester said cheerfully before stepping forward and sticking out her hand. “I’m Jester, and I was just wondering where you got your super awesome metal wolf. May I pet him?”

The stranger chuckled and shook Jester’s hand. “You can call me Ariel, and sure, you can pet Freki. He won’t feel it really, but that’s never stopped _me_ from petting him.”

Molly watched as Jester grinned and knelt down until she was at eye level with the wolf. “Hello, Freki. You are very handsome and shiny, and your owner has a very shiny tattoo and is also handsome so you match. Are you magic, like Caleb’s kitty?” She scratched behind the wolf’s ears, fingernails making soft sounds on the metal.

“Well, Freki was made with magic, but he’s not actually magical, if that makes any sense,” Ariel said. “I built him myself, and it’s magic that makes him move and obey me.”

“That’s quite impressive,” Molly said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Mollymauk, Molly to my friends.”

Ariel look chagrined as they took his hand. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you. Mollymauk? Like the bird, yes?” And to Molly’s surprise, they hummed several bars of a sea shanty that Molly was very much acquainted with. “I’d sing it, but I hear it’s bad luck to sing sea shanties on land, and it’d probably be worse luck for you, since I have no voice for singing.”

Molly found himself grinning, his former mood lifting slightly. “Just like the bird, yes. Spent some time by the sea, have you?” He tried to place their accent, it didn’t sound like any he had come across in his travels.

“I’ve spent some time most places,” Ariel said. They were still holding Molly’s hand, turning it slightly to get a better look at his tattoo. “Oh, the Serpent! That’s a nice piece, very traditional. Good clean lines on that, nice shading.” Ariel looked up, and Molly saw their eyes follow the trail of peacock feathers up his neck. “And that looks just plain magnificent, especially considering that tattooing over scars is a challenge and a half, using traditional methods.” They looked down, as if they had just realized they were still holding Molly’s hand, and let it go, thumb dragging over the back of his hand for a brief moment.

“I’ve been told that I’m a difficult canvas to work with,” Molly agreed. He had gotten his tattoos while he had been with the circus, literal months and months of work with needles and ink, all told.

“You should see the rest of his tattoos,” Jester said. “They’re so pretty! Molly, take off your shirt and show them.”

“That’s all right,” Ariel said quickly. “I’m pretty sure the town guards frown upon people just casually taking off their clothes in public.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Molly said, changing the subject. “Ariel, you said something about tattooing using, ‘traditional methods.’ Meaning there are non-traditional ones?”

“These days? Oh yeah, sure.” Ariel gestured towards the empty chair next to them. “Sit, please.”

Molly spared a glance at Jester, who was still hunkered down across from Freki, her sketchbook balanced on her knees as she drew, and then took the offered seat.

Ariel smiled and reached into their cloak and brought out a small wooden case, which contained a number of hand rolled cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke?”

This was nearly too good to be true. “Not only do I not mind, I will happily buy one of those off you,” Molly said with a grin, fishing a gold piece out of his pocket and sliding it across the table top.

Ariel slid it back towards him. “Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to share. Plus that’s too much by quite a bit.”

“If you don’t take it, he will just slip it into your pocket or something when you’re not looking,” Jester piped up. “He does it with people who try to buy him drinks.”

Ariel looked at Molly thoughtfully. “Is that so?”

Molly shot Jester a look. “I just don’t like getting things for free from people who can barely afford it. Those people back in Alfield had been through a lot, far be it from me to take advantage of that.”

“Sounds like you’ve been having an adventure,” Ariel said as they reached down into the side pocket of their bag and came up with another small wooden case. “Well, if you’re going to insist on paying with gold, I’m going to give you your money’s worth.” They pulled two cigarettes from each case and held them up in each hand. “These two are Snowdrop, for when you need to be a little more focused,” they said, gesturing with their left hand. “And these,” they said, gesturing with their right hand,“are for when you need the sharp edges taken off the world for a bit. It’s called Starry Night, because it smells like—“

“Starlight and roses?” Molly grinned, thinking of Yasha again and all the time they had spent together holed up in inns during that one year of frequent thunderstorms. “Please tell me you bought these here, because if so I need to go shopping later. Thank you for these.” He took the offered cigarettes, tucking all but one of them into a pocket in his coat and producing a match, which he struck alight with his thumb, lighting first the cigarette Ariel was holding out to him, and then his own. He felt the last of his nerves settle as the smoke filled his lungs, the taste of roses and the sparkle of starlight in his mouth.

Ariel smiled and took a drag on their own cigarette. The smoke they blew out seconds later smelled like spring rain and shadows. “Go to The Dragon’s Respite over on the northeast side of the market, they have a whole selection of exotics. Probably some things that aren’t strictly legal either, if that’s your thing. Starry Night is fairly inexpensive, but the Snowdrop comes all the way from Vasselheim, which is fair far from here. The story goes that it’s made from a particular variety of snowdrops that grow all year round, but I don’t know if that’s the truth or just a tale so they can justify the price.”

Jester stood up then, putting her sketchbook on the table and noisily dragging over a chair from an empty table so she could sit down. Her gaze fell on the book Ariel had been working in before they had been interrupted. “Oh! You’re an artist too!”

Molly looked down and indeed, Ariel had been sketching out a design of stars and fancy scrolling that blended into a musical staff, the stars becoming notes.

“Artificer, technically, but yeah, more emphasis on the _art_ these days I suppose. The art is how I make my living, anyway. I’m here for the Harvest’s Close festival, plenty of coin to be had with face painting, and if anyone is interested in anything more permanent, well, I can do about three tattoos a day, assuming my pigments last and I haven’t been using my magic for anything else.”

Molly leaned forward in his chair, intrigued. He’d never met an artificer before, but he knew that they were said to create wondrous things. “I’ve heard stories about magical tattoos, but I thought they were just stories.”

“Oh, actual _magical_ tattoos, that’s wizard stuff, and the tattoo fades when the spell is used, so what good is that? No no, my tattoos are more like Freki here.” Freki looked up at the sound of his name and Ariel stroked the top of his head. “Magic is involved, but the tattoos themselves aren’t magical, just the way I apply them is. Just mix certain reagents in with the ink, paint the design on the skin, a little transmutation magic—“ Ariel wiggled their fingers, “and that’s it. Permanent, painless, covers birthmarks and scars… if you want them covered, that is,” Ariel said, eyeing the expanse Molly’s chest exposed by the open neck of his shirt with a twist of a grin.

“That’s so cool!” Jester said in awe. “How much do you charge? I don’t have any money right now, technically, but my mother is sending me some!”

Molly managed to keep himself from outwardly wincing. He had a very strong feeling that Jester was never going to see as much as another copper from her mother, but he wasn’t about to suggest such a thing. He could be wrong. Let Jester have her hope.

“Well it all depends,” Ariel said, leaning back in their chair slightly. “Have to think about size, placement, level of detail. Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes!” Jester said in delight, and flipped through her sketchbook for a second before sliding it over towards Ariel. The entire page was covered in drawings of hummingbirds in a wild array of colors, including one that looked exactly like Shakaste’s hummingbird, the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, in all her dark glory. “Molly says I’m like a hummingbird, because I like sugar and I’m full of energy and colorful and it’s impossible to be sad when looking at a hummingbird and that is just like me!”

Ariel smiled, putting their chin in their hand and giving Jester a look. “I think I see the resemblance, yes,” and there was a warmth in their tone that sounded downright affectionate.

If Jester noticed, she didn’t give any indication of it. “I know, right? And then we met this really cool cleric named Shakaste and he had this super pretty hummingbird—“ Jester proceeded to launch into a retelling of fighting the gnolls and the manticore in the mines, the story meandering back to the raid on Alfield and then forward again.

Molly, the events still very fresh in his mind, instead watched Ariel’s reaction to the story. Yes, there was no doubt about it, there was affection there in Ariel’s eyes as they listened to Jester talk, and their smile looked just a touch wistful as Jester described the group of them fighting together. That was interesting. Had Ariel done some adventuring in their past?

Partway through the tale, Ariel ducked under the table to pull something from their bag, muttering to themself, and came up with a case of colored pencils similar to the ones Jester used sometimes. “Don’t mind me,” they said as they turned to a fresh page in their journal and started sketching something.

“You say that as if anything could stop her once she gets started,” Molly whispered with a smile.

Ariel just flashed Molly a grin and continued sketching with a speed that was frankly astonishing. In what seemed like no time at all the outline of a hummingbird appeared, all curved lines and fancy scrollwork. Even the bill had a curve to it, and it made Molly think of the sickle that Jester wore at her belt. The design was perfect for Jester, and it told Molly that Ariel was just as good at reading people on the spot as he was.

Molly watched Ariel’s hand hover over the selection of colored pencils and nonchalantly nudged the bright pink one as a suggestion. They took his advice, gathering several pinks, yellows, and oranges together, and Molly watched as they colored and shaded the design. By the time Jester had finished her story, there was a sunrise of a hummingbird on the page, and Jester squealed when she saw it.

“It’s so pretty! I love it!”

“I thought you might,” Ariel said, and there was no mistaking it, their smile was full of fondness as well as a touch sad. “It’s funny, but you remind me of a cleric I used to travel with a long time ago. Very excitable, loved to wear bright colors, and she could have thrown me clear across the horizon without a second thought. There were more of us, of course, our little found family. We had such a light burning inside us back then, it felt like we could change the world.” They shook their head. “But nothing lasts, and even the brightest light goes out eventually, doesn’t it?” Ariel put their hand over their face for a moment, shoulders suddenly hunched under their cloak. “Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.” They stood up quickly, gathering their things and stowing them in their bag. “I should go.”

“You don’t have—“ Jester started to say, getting up, but Molly put a hand on her arm. Ariel had a look on their face that he had seen on Caleb more than once in their short time together, the look of a person trying desperately to keep their anxieties and emotions in check and struggling not to fail. A chill breeze had suddenly sprung up and for a moment the shadows seemed to get deeper, as if a cloud had passed over the sun, as if the weather was receptive to Ariel’s mood.

“I’ll be in town through Harvest’s Close at least,” Ariel said quickly as they slung their bags over their shoulder, quarterstaff wedged under one arm. “I’m here most mornings, the coffee is very good. I enjoyed talking to the both of you, truly I did. I’m not… not used to it, but it was good. Really good. If I’m not here, I’m staying over at the Griffon’s Roost, room number four.” They reached out and took Jester’s hand, squeezing it. “Come see me and we can talk about the price of that tattoo, if you still want it.”

“Of course I’ll still want it,” Jester said, slightly subdued now, looking confused at Ariel’s sudden change in mood. “Once my mother sends me money, I’ll see you first thing! Before that even.”

“All right then.” Ariel turned and took Molly’s hand. Their skin was chilly next to his own heat. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the rest of your tattoos sometime. Professional interest.” Their smile was brittle but not forced as they squeezed his hand, and then they turned away, hood already back up. “Freki, come.”

Both Molly and Jester watched them go, the tension in the air a tangible thing, and that was no good. “I think they like you,” Molly said, both to break that tension and because he thought it was true. “They gave you their room number after all.”

Jester gave Molly a light shove, but she was smiling. “They gave _both_ of us their room number, technically. And they want to see your tattoos,” she said with a wink.

“Well who wouldn’t? They _are_ magnificent, after all.” Molly mirrored Jester’s smile, trying to ignore the little tendril of dread that was slowly trying to creep its way back into his brain. What was _with_ him today? “C’mon, let’s go shopping or something.” He knew just which shop he wanted to hit up. The Dragon’s Respite sounded like a place where he might be able to purchase some lovely distractions.


	2. Chapter 2

A week went by, and the group of them were still in Zadash, Jester waiting on the package from her mother, Molly waiting on Yasha. No one else minded the wait, at least. Beau had wrangled passes to the Cobalt Reserves archives for both Caleb and Fjord, which meant the two were spending their days together studying, and who knew what else besides. Beau was still leaving the inn late at night and coming home early in the morning, according to Jester, who had healed her sprained wrist one night and a wrenched shoulder the next. Nott, left to her own devices, stayed mostly in the inn, though she occasionally left when her itchy fingers needed something to steal. Molly had taken to following her on such occasions, running interference and offering pointers. Sometimes Jester came with them, and sometimes she didn’t. The times she didn’t, Molly knew he could find her at a certain bakery, at least in the mornings, chattering happily with Ariel. He was glad Jester had made a new friend, or whatever that relationship was or wasn’t turning into. She needed more things to make her smile, especially as the week wore on and there had still been no word from her mother.

A knock on the door of the room Molly shared with Fjord had the tiefling up and half dressed before he had even crossed the room, a useful skill to possess. A quick glance out the window told him it was still slightly early yet, but Fjord was already gone for the day, which figured, because surely Caleb and his insatiable love of books had dragged the half-orc out of bed as soon as the archives were open. Either that or Fjord hadn’t slept in his own bed last night, and that was a thought to file away for later.

He expected Jester when he opened the door, only to have to adjust his glance downward because it was Nott who had woken him up. She looked up at him, her yellow eyes just barely visible under her hood, and she was wringing her hands.

“Nott?” Molly hunkered down until he was nearly eye level with her, and he could see worry quite plain on her face. “What is it?”

“Ummmm, well, I was sleeping in Jester and Beau’s room last night because Caleb and Fjord wanted to be, you know—“

One mystery solved, Molly would have to say something to make the two of them blush later.

“Anyway,” Nott continued. “Jester left really early this morning, and she told me to stay here, so I did, but then she was gone for a really long time so I went downstairs, and she was sitting all by herself in the corner andshe’d been crying, I could tell, and she said she’s fine but she’s really awful at pretending sometimes, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Shit. Molly felt his stomach twist into a knot. He had been trying to prepare himself for something like this for a week, but he had been hoping that maybe everything would shake itself out just fine. “Well, coming to get me was the exact right thing to do, Nott.” He grabbed his shirt and his coat from where he had slung them over a chair the night before and pulled them on. “Let’s go see what’s up.”

It was as Nott had said. Jester was curled up at a corner table, her head resting on her knees. There was a letter clutched in one hand, creased and crumpled. She looked up when she heard Molly and Nott approach and quickly unfolded herself, swiping at her face with her sleeve. “Oh, um, good morning,” she said, trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably.

“Is it?” Molly asked, sitting down next to her. Nott scrambled to sit on Jester’s other side, leaning against her in quiet support.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jester asked, and smiled. At least, she tried to smile, and that counterfeit expression hurt Molly’s heart more than any arrow to the chest ever could have.

“Jester,” Molly said softly. “You don’t have to pretend everything’s okay. Not around us.”

“Also you’re really bad at it,” Nott piped up.

Jester made a sound that could have been a laugh, and stroked Nott’s hair with one hand. The other hand still held the letter, and she thrust it at Molly, not looking at him.

Molly silently took the letter, flattening out the creases and noting the places where it had been presumably smudged by Jester’s tears, and began to read. The name at the top wasn’t Jester’s, but that didn’t phase him in the slightest, he knew all about the names parents gave you versus the names one chose for themself. He scanned the contents of the letter and learned both that Jester had left home with an amount of money that Molly literally could not conceive of, except it was enough to pay off Gustav’s debt to society and perhaps buy a very nice house with the change, and that the money Jester’s mother had sent with the letter would be the last money Jester would be receiving. It was still more money than Molly would have known what to do with, but that wasn’t saying an awful lot, and he knew to Jester it was probably barely anything. The letter went on, saying Jester was a grown woman and she had to make her own way in the world now, and that her mother hoped that she would do well for herself.

Molly kept his expression carefully neutral as he read and tried not to think that Jester had been set up to fail. Who gave a girl who had barely been outside her own room and had next to no concept of what money was worth a sum so large and then expected them to spend it wisely? But no, that was an unkind thing to think, and not helpful to the situation at hand. Instead he carefully folded the letter and set it aside, pretending not to notice when Nott’s hand snaked out towards it.

Jester looked up at Molly, her lower lip quivering. “I don’t know what to do,” she said quietly. “I didn’t— I’ve never had to worry about money before— I just— and I— miss her—“

Molly managed to open up his arms to Jester mere seconds before she threw herself at him, sobbing loudly into his shoulder. He held her close and stroked her hair, murmuring soothing nonsense at her because anything he said would be lost to the sound of her sobbing anyhow. Jester cried like her heart was breaking, like she had just realized that maybe the world wasn’t the way she had thought it was, that her life couldn’t continue the way it had been. It seemed like an age before her sobs quieted into sniffles, and Molly rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re going to be all right,” Molly said softly. “We’ll help you, any way we can.”

“That’s right,” Nott said, who was hugging Jester from behind.

“Thank you,” Jester sniffled.

Molly kissed her forehead gently and then leaned back a little. “What do you want to do right now?”

Jester sighed. “I’m really tired, actually. Beau’s snoring woke me up even earlier than I normally do.”

“She’s super loud,” Nott piped up, then yawned widely. “Like a sleeping bear, except I’ve heard quieter bears.”

“Trust Beau to be annoying even in her sleep,” said Molly, but there was no real malice behind his words. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to his room, handing it to her. “You can nap in my room, if you like. You and Nott,” he amended, knowing Jester didn’t like to sleep in a room all by herself.

“Thank you Molly,” Jester’s smile was fragile and small, but it was real this time. “Are you going out later?”

“I had been thinking about it,” Molly said. There had been a few small things he had wanted to pick up. “Unless you want me to stay here? Do you need something? I’d be happy to get it for you.”

“No, it was just…” Jester sighed. “If you see Ariel, can you tell them I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to get that tattoo after all? Since I should be careful with my money and everything.”

Molly made a decision in an instant. “Of course,” he lied smoothly. “I could do that right after breakfast even.” Now he _definitely_ had somewhere to be today, and he wondered just how much a tattoo would cost, because he firmly believed in pleasant distractions to take the sting out of the more unpleasant bits of life. If he couldn’t afford to cover it for her, well, he would have to think of something else, he supposed.

“Thank you,” Jester said, and hugged him. “I will have a nap and then I will be regular old smiling Jester again, I promise.”

“You can be however you feel,” Molly said firmly. “No pretending just because you think it’ll make everyone else feel better, all right? I mean it.” He could tell from the look on her face that perhaps the thought had indeed crossed her mind.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jester said, standing up. “C’mon Nott. We shall have a proper sleepover and I will braid your hair and we will tell each other stories.”

Molly watched the two of them disappear up the stairs, then set about ordering breakfast. On a whim he ordered two mugs of warm goats milk with cinnamon and honey to be sent up to his room for the two girls. It was a drink that Yasha had introduced to him one night when he couldn’t sleep, and it was very comforting. He could get used to having money, he decided, if it meant having enough to spend on his friends when they needed cheering up.

*******

Ariel was sitting at what Molly had come to think of as their usual table when he walked up, the hood of their blue cloak hiding them from the world as Freki watched at their side. They were drawing something in their book, Molly would have been honestly surprised if Ariel _hadn’t_ been doing that. “Good morning, Ariel,” he said as he approached. “Do you have a moment?”

“For you? Of course I do,” Ariel’s voice drifted out from the concealing shadows of their cloak, sounding tired but cheerful.

Molly turned to pull up a chair and by the time he had done so and settled himself, Ariel had pulled back the hood of their cloak and was yawning, reaching for their mug of coffee. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well.”

“Bad dreams?” Molly asked, because it was always the first thing that sprang to his mind when anyone had trouble sleeping.

“They’re the only kind I have,” Ariel said with a shrug. “It’s been nightmares or nothing for me for a very long time.” They took a sip of coffee. “Ah well, you didn’t come here to talk about the state of my dreams or lack thereof, I’m assuming. You have the look of a man with a mission. What’s up?”

“It’s Jester,” Molly said. “She received a letter from her mother this morning.”

“About time,” Ariel said, tapping their pencil against the page of their journal. “I’ve been watching Jester’s smile grow thinner and thinner all week. Since she’s not here, I take it that it wasn’t good news?”

Molly briefly summed up the events of the morning and watched Ariel’s expression turn thoughtful.

“That’s honestly better than I expected, but my thoughts tend to run towards the negative, unlike Jester. Still, I can see why she’s upset.” They leaned back in their chair, reaching down to stroke the smooth metal behind Freki’s ears, and sighed. “I’ll do it for free you know.”

Molly blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Jester’s tattoo. That’s why you came to see me, yes?” They flipped through their book to the page where the hummingbird was, notes scrawled beside it that Molly couldn’t read. Whatever the language was, it wasn’t Common. “Let me guess, she told you to tell me that she couldn’t afford it now. Or she didn’t say anything about it and you thought you’d pay for it for her. I’m telling you it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Molly frowned. “I don’t do discounts. I also don’t take charity, not unless it’s a life or death situation. You want something done, you pay for it, simple as that.”

Ariel’s lips twisted into a smile. “That’s what Jester told me a few days ago too, when I offered. Looks like your morals are rubbing off on your friends. Fine then.” Ariel tapped their pencil against the words in their book that Molly couldn’t read, then looked up at the sky as if trying to do math in their head. Molly knew a performance when he saw it. “150 gold. And a service.”

Molly’s eyebrows went up. “What kind of service?” Because he could only think of one thing people generally wanted the services of a tiefling for, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to sell himself so that Jester could have a tattoo.

“The day we met, I saw your deck of fortune telling cards.”

Molly visibly relaxed, chuckling a little. “Oh that’s a relief. Why yes, I can reveal and interpret the intricate weaving of the threads of fate for you,” he said with a grin.

Ariel grinned back. “Yes, but can you do it without the cold reading and the theatrics? Not that the theatrics aren’t enjoyable, but I’ve been to nearly every card reader, bone thrower and oracle on this side of the world and it gets old, after awhile.”

“I see you understand how this works.” Huh, Ariel wanted honesty. Most people didn’t, when you got down to it. They wanted happy news, happy lives, happy futures, and Molly knew the placement of every card in his deck and could produce cheerful lies every time if he wished. But he didn’t have to. “I can do an honest reading for you, if that’s what you want.” He pulled his deck from the pocket of his coat. “Do you have a specific question in mind or just looking for a general reading?”

Ariel shook their head. “We can do that after the tattoo, if you don’t mind. I don’t want whatever answers I receive weighing me down while I work.”

“Fair,” Molly said, tucking the deck away and reaching for his coin purse instead. “So you haven’t been getting the answers you want?”

Ariel shrugged. “I’ve been getting the answers I deserve.”

That was a no if he had ever heard one. “Fine then, I won’t push. Just one question,” Molly said as he counted out gold. Ariel hadn’t asked for money up front, but they didn’t protest either.

Ariel nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Why doesn’t the money matter to you? Because if you didn’t name the lowest number you thought you could get away with just now, I’ll eat my coat.”

“Don’t do that, it’s a nice coat. Looks comfortable.” Ariel sighed and folded their hands. “Listen, the money matters, in the sense that there’s some reagents I need to buy for the tattooing process and I enjoy eating on occasion, and then of course traveling expenses. But money isn’t why I do this. It’s… there’s something I did a long time ago, that I’m still trying to make up for, and I figure if I can put a little beauty and magic back into the world while I set about putting things right, well, that’s a bonus. I’d do the work for free all the time if I could.”

“So this is about redemption then? What did you do?” Molly finished counting out gold and Ariel quickly made the coins vanish into one of the smaller side pouches on their bag.

Ariel shook their head. “I don’t know you _that_ well, Molly, and I’d rather you continue to think I’m a good person. Let’s just say I wasn’t as careful as I should have been with my notes and leave it at that.” They closed their book and slipped it into their bag. “It’ll take me a little while to get everything prepared. I could swing by the Leaky Tap a bit after sundown, if you’d like. Or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” Ariel stood up, Freki moving to stand alongside them.

“Tonight should be fine, I would think.” Molly stood as well. “I thank you. I know Jester will thank you too, quite enthusiastically most likely.”

Ariel laughed. “I have no doubt. I shall see the both of you tonight. Freki, come.”

Molly watched them walk off before making his own way through the market, lost in thought. _I’d rather you continue to think I’m a good person._ Molly shook his head. He was an excellent reader of people, at least he liked to think so, and Ariel did indeed seem like a good person. Sad yes, haunted by something in their past, yes, but that described the majority of the people Molly currently hung around with.

Molly shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He had errands to run, and he couldn’t be all day about doing them.

**************

Molly returned to the Leaky Tap in the afternoon with a bag of bear claws and a smile to find Beau and Jester sitting at a table together, Beau laughing enthusiastically in that way she did when she had an ale or two in her. Molly hadn’t actually _seen_ Beau in several days, her patterns of coming and going not coinciding with his own, and he catalogued her new bruises and the way she winced slightly when she raised her tankard. He also noticed that Beau looked past him for a moment, disappointment plain on her face at who wasn’t behind him.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” Molly said with a grin, taking a seat next to Jester. He looked for Yasha in every crowd and knew Beau did the same, although for different reasons. “Well, me and a bag full of pastries. Help yourselves!”

Beau blushed, tankard sloshing slightly. “I wasn’t looking for her… I mean…” She grabbed a bear claw and started chewing.

Molly chuckled and turned his attention to Jester, who was completely demolishing her pastry. “And how are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you,” Jester smiled, and it was a genuine smile that did Molly’s heart good to see. “I had a nap and Beau has been keeping me company and telling me stories about her gang back home and everything! And about her dad, who’s an asshole.”

“Hey now, it wasn’t _my_ gang, I just ran around with them. You’re right about my dad though. He’s a total asshole.” Beau grimaced and took another swig of her drink.

Molly raised an eyebrow as his grin grew wider. “Well don’t let me interrupt story time, I’m _terribly_ interested.” He was, that wasn’t a lie, Beau had only been dropping the barest of hints about her past up until now.

“Nah, I’m done,” Beau said. “I mean, I shouldn’t give away everything at once, got an image to maintain. All mysterious and shit. I have to head out soon anyway.”

Molly smirked. To him Beau was an open book written in Common with large and clear letters. He would have bet all of his remaining coin that Beau had started telling stories about her past, which he knew made her uncomfortable, because she had wanted to distract Jester from her sadness and her worries. Damn it, he was going to have to revise his opinion of Beau up a notch. Not that he was going to let her know that. “More training? You should work on your dodging, if you collect any more bruises you’re going to end up as purple as me, and it’s very much not your color.”

Beau aimed a kick at him under the table, too fast for Molly to avoid. He winced, it was totally fair.

“Didn’t see you dodging that!” Beau grinned and stood up, weaving slightly, leaning on her staff just a little. “I’ll try not to wake you up when I come in, Jester. Sorry about last night.”

“Don’t be sorry!” Jester said brightly. “I don’t mind healing you up!”

“Speaking of,” Molly said casually, pulling a tin of salve from the pocket of his coat and tossing it to Beau. “Catch!”

Beau plucked it neatly out of the air, which Molly thought was quite the feat given the fact that she was at least more than a little tipsy. “What is this?”

“It’s good for sore muscles,” Molly said. Then, so she wouldn’t just reject it out of hand, “Yasha swears by it.” Which was true.

“She does?” Beau got that far away look in her eyes that Molly had come to associate with her thinking about the barbarian woman. If Beau and Yasha ever got together, Beau would most likely be insufferable, but that wouldn’t be a big change. “Ummm, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

Beau rolled her eyes but she was still smiling slightly when she headed out the door.

Jester elbowed Molly in the ribs. “You’re a big softy, you know that?”

“Jester please, not so loud! I have a reputation to maintain!” He grinned and munched on a bear claw. “What will people say?”

“Fine, fine, but I know you have a heart as squishy as marshmallow,” Jester teased.

“I was just feeling generous today, that’s all,” Molly said. “Speaking of, I have something else for you besides pastries.”

“You’re spoiling me!” Jester said, grinning for a moment, but when she spoke again, her voice was more subdued. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m fine.”

“Oh I know. You can consider it an… that’s right, you don’t do Winter’s Crest on this continent, do you? Consider it an early birthday present if you like. You feel up for getting a tattoo this evening?”

Jester looked at Molly in unblinking disbelief for just long enough that Molly was worried that his surprise was not going over as he had hoped, then Jester squealed and hugged him so hard that their horns knocked together. Molly winced even as he grinned.

“Oh thank you thank you thank you!” Jester’s voice was shrill in his ear. Molly already felt the headache forming, but it was totally worth it.

Molly laughed. “You’re very much welcome. Just try not to knock Ariel over when you give them a thank you hug, okay?”


	3. Chapter 3

Jester didn’t knock Ariel over with her hug when they came in to The Leaky Tap, but it was a near thing. Molly, standing to the side, was able to see Ariel tense at the unexpected contact with something very close to pain in their expression before turning their grimace into a smile and their startled gasp into a laugh. Only Ariel’s eyes stayed the same, filled with affection and sorrow in equal measure. Freki stood at their side, watching the scene.

“Glad to see you too!” Ariel said cheerfully as they pulled back. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re excited.”

“I’m super excited!” Jester said gleefully.

“She’s practically been vibrating ever since I told her you were coming,” Molly confirmed.

“Well, you’re going to have to calm down and sit still long enough for me to do my work,” Ariel told Jester. “Otherwise you are going to have the world’s blurriest hummingbird on your arm.”

“I can sit still!” Jester protested. “My mom, she—“ Jester’s voice faltered a little. “Mom used to paint me all the time, and I had to sit very still for that, for hours practically.”

“Well this shouldn’t take all night once I get started,” Ariel said. “The line work takes the longest, but the color goes quickly enough.” They looked around the tavern. “I probably should have told you how much space I needed to work in. Neither of you have a table in your rooms, do you?”

Both Molly and Jester shook their heads.

“Hmmm. Lighting is pretty good in here. Think anyone would mind us setting up at a corner table?” Ariel gestured and there was indeed a table in the corner that was empty.

“Don’t see why anyone would,” Molly said. “As long as you don’t mind people watching. Probably would get you more customers, come Harvest’s Close.”

“I don’t mind, as long as no one bumps the table. I can fix my mistakes up to a point, but I’d rather not make any in the first place. Okay then!” Ariel smiled, and this time it reached their eyes. “Let’s go get set up.”

“I’m going to grab myself a drink,” Molly said. “Do you two want anything?”

“Water for me is fine,” Ariel said.

“Can you get me whatever that was with the goats milk and the honey and the cinnamon?” Jester asked. “That was amazing!”

Molly grinned. “I’m glad you liked it! All right, then. Be right back.”

By the time Molly returned, Ariel and Jester were seated at the table facing each other, Jester’s right arm stretched across the table. Next to Ariel was a pot of black ink and a roll of leather that contained what looked like several different dip pens with tips of varying shape and thickness. Molly distributed the drinks and took a seat next to Jester. Ariel had removed their cloak and for once wasn’t wearing the leather armor that Molly was used to seeing them in. The shirt they were wearing was a simple one of decent linen, dyed blue and open from the throat down to the chest in much the same way as Molly’s own shirt. The cut of the shirt revealed more tattoos, six rather plain looking stars arched over what looked like a shiny silver raven, whose design was more complex, delicate scrolls and stars on the bird’s wings instead of feathers.

“Jester asked about those too,” Ariel said, and Molly realized he had been caught staring.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to stare. I must admit I am curious though.”

“Oh no worries,” Ariel said easily. “I wouldn’t be showing them off if I didn’t want to talk about them. Much like you and your scars, I would imagine. Just let me get started here.” They smiled at Jester. “You ready? Are you comfortable?”

“Yes and yes!” Jester’s eyes shone with excitement.

“All right, just tell me if you need a break and please try to warn me if you’re going to sneeze. Are we waiting on anyone else? Any more of your friends?”

“Beau is off getting beat up so she can learn how to do even more amazing monk things, and Caleb found a new spell to put in his spell book and he was very excited about it and dragged Nott and Fjord towards the The Invulnerable Vagrant right after dinner so who even knows when they’ll be back.” Jester said and then sighed. “Everyone is so _busy_.”

“We’ll all be together for the Harvest Close festival tomorrow if I have to tie everyone to each other,” Molly promised her. “Everyone needs the day off to relax and have some fun. Getting Caleb to stop reading for five minutes might present a challenge though.”

“I’ll be working,” Ariel said. “But maybe I can find you on one of my breaks. If you don’t mind the extra company, I mean. Wouldn’t want to intrude.” They pulled out their journal and flipped through the pages until they got to the hummingbird they had designed nearly a week ago. “Still happy with this?”

“I love it,” Jester said. “And you should definitely come find us during the festival!”

Ariel smiled slightly and selected a pen. “All right then, I will.” They studied the page in front of them for a moment and then dipped the pen in the ink. “And here we go. Stay very still now.”

Ariel’s strokes weren’t as quick as when they had been drawing the design on paper, but they were efficient. The ink itself wasn’t thin like normal writing ink, but it wasn’t quite as thick as paint, and the ink didn’t spread along the skin and stain it but stayed where it was put. Slowly, an outline began to form.

“How long did it take you to figure out how to do this, the ink and everything I mean?” Molly asked after several minutes of silence.

“Oh years. It was because of how much my first tattoo hurt, the stars on my chest. That’s when I learned that needles and I do not get along, no matter how badly I wanted them to. I only just managed through sheer force of will to sit long enough to get the lines done. I think about coloring them in sometimes, but it doesn’t seem right to change them now. It’s a memorial tattoo, for the adventurers I used to run with. My family.”

“I’m sorry,” both Jester and Molly said at the same time.

“I thank you,” Ariel said, switching pens, drawing some thinner, scrolling lines near the tail. “There was an ambush, we were captured, and I was the only one who escaped, not even my first mechanical companion made it. I wanted something besides nightmares and scars to remember them by, that’s all. I added my raven, Munin after, had to draw him while looking in a mirror, and let me tell you that was not _easy_. That was the first successful tattoo using this process, which seemed fitting since Munin was the first companion I ever built for myself.” There was a pause. “I miss him sometimes. Still, Freki is a good protector for someone who is alone on the road.” Ariel switched pens again, choosing one with a tip so fine that it nearly looked like a needle.

“Where are you headed next?” Molly barely got the words out before Jester spoke up enthusiastically.

“You should travel with us! Then you wouldn’t have to be alone, and we could have adventures and draw things together and—“

Ariel, who had been about to set the pen to Jester’s skin, paused, tip hovering. There was a tremble in their fingers as they very slowly put the pen back down and massaged their hand, their head bowed. “Sorry, hand cramp.” The tremor in Ariel’s hand had extended to their voice as well. “Happens sometimes when I start doing the finer details, just give me a minute and please don’t move your arm.” Their shoulders were hunched halfway up to their ears, a posture Molly had seen on Caleb more than once. Either what he had asked or what Jester had proposed had upset them.

“Take all the time you need,” Molly said easily as if he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. He didn’t know if Ariel was anything like Caleb, who got even more upset and defensive if attention was drawn to him while he was having difficulty with his emotions, but it was a strategy that had worked for Molly so far. Ariel finished massaging their hand and took a long drink of water and by the time they picked up their pen again and re-inked it, their hand wasn’t shaking and their voice sounded normal again. They worked in silence for a few moments.

“I’m actually headed across the ocean, over to Tal’Dorei. Have a few places to go, people to see. But I thank you for the offer. Jester, I think you told me before you were headed up north after you leave here?”

“That’s the plan! Going to try and get Fjord into the Soltryce Academy, except you know, I’d miss him if he left. Which doesn’t mean I want him to get rejected or anything!” Jester hurried to say.

“Just be careful. I came down here from the north and if you’ve heard it’s hard up there for folks of the non-human persuasion, well, those aren’t just rumors. And watch out for the wildlife, it seems like everything is more aggressive these days. If I had a gold piece for every beast that tried to take a bite of me out on the road, I wouldn’t be making a living on face painting and tattoos. Speaking of—“ Ariel leaned back, pen poised, and studied the design on Jester’s arm with a critical eye. “How’s that look?”

It looked beautiful was how it looked, the curve and swirl of the lines showing up crisp and clear on Jester’s blue skin. Even though it wasn’t finished yet, it was art.

“It’s perfect! Molly, you should definitely have Ariel design a tattoo for you! This is super pretty already!”

“Can’t say I’m not tempted, but I don’t have anything in mind right now.” Which was the truth, but not the whole truth. His coin purse was significantly lighter than it had been, and, if he was honest with himself, he _liked_ the pain that came with being tattooed. It was cathartic.

“No worries,” Ariel said. “If you think of something, you just let me know.” They cleaned up their pens and closed up the bottle of black ink. “Half a minute while I put these away and we get to my favorite part, coloring.” They ducked down to rummage through their bag, mumbling to themself. Something about the mumbling caught Molly’s ear, but he didn’t have time to think about it before he heard a voice he hadn’t expected to hear.

“Oh shit, that really _is_ a wolf made of metal!”

Beau was standing by their table, a new bruise over one eye and a smile on her face.

“Beau!” Jester sounded delighted. “You came back early!”

“They get bored with beating you up?” Molly asked with a grin.

“Nah, I’m just so good that they decided to give me a few days off,” Beau said with an easy smile, but Molly saw the lie in her words, combined with the stiff way she moved. More likely they had sent her away to actually heal up a little.

“You must be Beau,” Ariel said as they laid out several small jars of paint and a roll of what turned out to be a dozen paintbrushes, brush size ranging from small to absolutely tiny. They stuck out their hand. “I’m Ariel.”

“Yeah I know, Jester told me about you. Your face is really pretty— I mean, your tattoo is really— can I pet your wolf?” Beau said in a rush, her face darkening in a blush as she shook Ariel’s hand.

Ariel grinned. “Thank you and yes you may.”

“Cool,” Beau said as she knelt down, wincing a little. “Hey there big guy, just look at you,” she said in the same awed and quiet tone that she used on all animals, from Frumpkin to street dogs, as if the fact that animals existed at all and she was lucky enough to pet them was an amazing thing.

“Did we miss it?” Nott’s scratchy voice rang out as she scampered over to the table. “I tried to get Caleb to hurry but you know how he is when magic’s involved and—“ The words ended in a screech and suddenly Nott had her crossbow out, aimed straight at Freki.

“No Nott, don’t shoot him!” Jester cried out. “Remember me telling you my new friend had an awesome wolf?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Nott said sheepishly, voice muffled by her mask as she put her crossbow away. “I just didn’t realize he’d be so… big. And scary looking.”

“No worries,” Ariel said, and they looked at Nott with an expression that Molly couldn’t quite parse. “I’m Ariel and you must be Nott, Jester’s gob— halfling friend.”

“Yup, that’s me, just an innocent halfling girl!” Nott said, a little too loudly.

Ariel smiled and pitched their voice low, so that anyone eavesdropping would have a harder time hearing. “As far as masks go, I know for a fact that porcelain is not comfortable at all. There’s a mask maker on the south side of the Penta Market who specializes in hard leather, might find something to your liking there, if you had a mind to.”

“Oh, ummm, thank you?” It was a squeak of a question.

“We didn’t miss all the excitement, did we?” Fjord’s easy drawl was full of amusement. “Be a shame if we did.”

“Though if we did I can go to my room and copy this spell and try it out, so either is good really,” Caleb said, coming up from behind Fjord, a sleeping Frumpkin draped around his shoulders like a scarf.

“It’s getting a bit crowded, I hope you don’t mind,” Molly said to Ariel.

“I don’t mind an audience, just no one bump the table please.” Ariel stuck out a hand towards Fjord and Caleb. “Hey there, I’m Ariel.”

“Sorry, forgot my manners. I’m Fjord, and this is Caleb,” Fjord gestured to where Caleb had been standing, but the wizard had moved to kneel next to Beau to examine Freki.

“Hello very nice to meet you,” Caleb said without looking up. “A mechanical construct, ja? Powered by magic? I’ve never seen one up close before.”

Ariel laughed. “Freki, you are very popular this evening.”

At the sound of Ariel’s laughter, Frumpkin woke up, took one look at the mechanical dire wolf, hissed, and leapt off of Caleb’s shoulders and into Nott’s arms.

“Everyone is here!” Jester exclaimed, pleased. “Well, almost everyone.”

Molly looked toward the door. “If this was a play, now would be the time for Yasha to come walking in, possibly with some thunder rolling for added effect.”

After a moment or two passed and Yasha didn’t appear, Molly sighed. “She never did have a sense of dramatic timing.”

Molly stayed quiet as Ariel mixed paints and began their work again, letting the conversation of everyone else flow around him. At some point Caleb managed to pry himself away from examining Freki and immediately started in on questioning Ariel about what magic they used to get the tattoos to become permanent. The talk got rather technical and Molly only half listened, something about magical reagents and transmutation magic combining.

“The spell itself only lasts an hour, usually,” Ariel said as they blended the colors on the hummingbird’s wings, pink fading into orange. “But once the color’s under the skin, well, it’s under there permanently, just like any other tattoo.”

“That’s terribly fascinating.” Fjord said. “Anyone else know how to do this, or just you?”

“Just me, unless another artificer has figured it out, which is possible. I’ve considered passing along my notes to one of the major artificer guilds, if I ever get back into their good graces again.”

“How’d you get on their bad side?” Beau asked from where she was sitting cross legged on the floor, one hand rubbing behind one of Freki’s ears.

“I created some things that I shouldn’t have, and then I wasn’t careful with my notes. Things got out of hand rather quickly after that, and that’s all I’m going to say.” Ariel said firmly. “Besides, I’m just about… there. All done except for the magic.”

It was a sunrise of a hummingbird, pink and orange and gold with just enough of a subtle shimmer to the ink to give it a subtle glow. It really was beautiful, and it was very much Jester. Everyone was crowded close now to look at it with various murmurs of appreciation.

“It’s amazing!” Jester said. “Does the magic part take very long? It feels like I’ve been sitting _forever_.”

Ariel chuckled. “Doesn’t take long at all. In fact I even prepared the spell earlier.” They reached into a pouch at their waist and pulled out a copper piece and placed it into Jester’s open palm. “You just hold onto that and picture the tattoo sinking into your skin, and that’s it.”

Jester’s eyes were wide. “I get to do the magic part myself?”

“Yup! It’s the only way the process works, if the person receiving the tattoo is the one who does it. So go ahead!”

The magic wasn’t flashy or grand. It was subtle and quick, one second the tattoo was merely ink and paint above Jester’s skin and the next it looked, well, like one of Molly’s tattoos, or like they had after they had healed up at least. Molly took Jester’s wrist and swiped his thumb gently over the design, almost expecting it to smudge. It didn’t.

“You did an amazing job,” Molly said to Ariel, and over the next several minutes everyone voiced their praises while Ariel blushed and cleaned their brushes, head bowed with just the faintest of smiles gracing their features. Jester was grinning too but was strangely quiet, waiting until Ariel had finished putting away their things before standing up and walking over to where Ariel sat.

“You need to be standing so I can thank you properly,” Jester said with a grin.

Molly expected the near crushing thank you hug that occurred the instant Ariel stood up. What he _hadn’t_ expected was the kiss Jester gave them, just a quick little one on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless. “Thank you thank you thank you, I love it! It’s beautiful and I’m going to think of you every time I look at it!”

Ariel seemed to have been struck speechless either by the statement or the kiss, Molly wasn’t sure which. There was a moment’s awkward pause before Fjord cleared his throat. “Well I do believe this calls for drinks, to celebrate Jester getting her first tattoo and all.”

“I’ll totally buy that as an excuse to drink, sure,” Beau said. “Ariel, you want to join us?”

Ariel blinked, and Molly could practically hear their thoughts try to switch gears. “I should probably go get some rest. With the Harvest Close festival being tomorrow and all. I’ll be around though.”

“I will come visit you on your breaks, and we will eat delicious things together,” Jester declared.

Ariel smiled. “I look forward to that. Molly? Care to walk me back to the inn? There’s still that thing you need to do for me.”

Molly had almost forgotten. “Thank you for reminding me.”

As Ariel gathered their things, Jester hugged Molly too. “Thank you,” she said into his ear. “You didn’t have to pay for it, you know.”

“Best gold I ever spent,” Molly said, and it was true. “I was happy to do it.”

Jester’s kiss took him by surprise, just a second’s warm press of lips to his own, and then she was letting him go with a laugh and moving to join the others at the bar. There was a chorus of goodbyes and goodnights for both Ariel and Molly and then they were out the door and into the relative quiet of the streets of Zadash at night.


	4. Chapter 4

The night air was warm against Molly’s skin, but beside him Ariel was hunched into their cloak like they were freezing. “Hey, you okay?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Ariel straightened. “Sorry, I’m… not used to being around so many people anymore. Just got a little overwhelmed there. And…..”

Molly waited. He knew when to speak, but he also knew when to let the silence stretch. Most people naturally filled silences given enough time.

Ariel sighed. “I should know better than to get attached to anyone. Jester reminds me of— someone I never got the chance to confess my feelings to. I know that all this—“ Ariel waved a hand vaguely at themself, “is just me projecting the feelings I had for them on to her, which isn’t fair to anyone.”

Ahhh, there it was. “Would it make you feel better or worse to know Jester only thought of you as a friend?”

Ariel chuckled, but there was little humor in it. “Does she normally kiss friends?”

“She’s very affectionate,” Molly said. “I mean, she kissed me too.”

“Mmmmhmm.” The noise of affirmation had the hint of a smile to it, and when Molly spared Ariel a sidelong glance the human was indeed grinning a little, smile flickering in the light of the street lamps.

“You know something I don’t?”

“I know many things you don’t, I’m sure.” Just like that their mood had changed, tension gone as quickly as fast moving storm clouds. “You have the makings of a nice little family there.”

“We’re hardly family yet,” Molly protested. “As a group we’ve not even been together a month.”

“Huh, could have fooled me,” Ariel said. “Between what Jester’s told me and meeting all of you, well, there’s _something_ there.”

Molly thought about denying that, but really, he couldn’t. Not much time had passed since meeting the rest of the group and now, but he already cared for each of them in some way. Even Beau, who was fun to antagonize, and even Fjord, who didn’t trust him.

“Look, the bakery’s still open,” Ariel said.

It was, a few customers sitting outside and enjoying what might well be the last warm night before summer turned to autumn. Molly laughed. “For all the money we’ve spent there between the three of us, I think the owner could retire and spend the rest of their life on the Menagerie Coast, sunning themselves on the beach all day.”

Ariel returned his laugh. “Well they can have some more of my money, I could use a coffee. C’mon.”

Moments later they were both sitting at a table outside, drinking coffee and not saying anything, just enjoying the night and the relative quiet.

“That reading you’re going to do for me, would you mind doing it here?” Ariel said quietly. “It just sort of seems fitting, since this is where we met each other and all. Unless you need more privacy?”

“Here is perfect,” Molly said with a grin, drawing his deck from his pocket and beginning to shuffle. “So Ariel, what sort of reading did you have in mind? Simple? Complex? Do you have a specific question in mind or are you just looking for a general reading of your future?”

“It’s Sariel, actually,” they said softly.

Molly paused in his shuffling. “Pardon?”

“My name. If you’re going to give me an honest reading, I should give you my actual name. I don’t know if it matters to the cards, but it matters to me. I’m Sariel. No surname, I left that behind a long time ago.” The good mood of moments ago was gone, all the levity drained from their tone.

There was no reason for Molly to start feeling a prickle of unease creep up his spine. He had known plenty of people who possessed multiple names, hells, he was one of them. He covered his unease with a grin and resumed shuffling. “All right then, Sariel, what are you looking for from me and the cards this evening?”

“Who I am, where I am, and where I’m headed. That’s all I need. Please.”

“Simple enough.” Molly kept shuffling the cards. Part of him wanted very badly to do what he usually did and spin Ariel— Sariel, a happy future. He could do it, he knew the position of every card in his deck, and there were several cards that would suit his purpose that he could bring to the top. But no. They had asked for honesty, and there was no reason for Molly not to give it to them. So he stopped protecting the deck, let his mind wander and the cards move as they wished, and when he felt it was right he stopped. “Want them read facing you or facing me?”

“Doesn’t matter, whatever works for you,” Sariel said.

“Facing me it is.” Molly drew the first card, turned it over— and felt his mouth go dry.

It was the Bound Angel, reversed. Molly stared at the card, at the angel being dragged down by the red strings of fate.

“Would you believe this is the card I kept pulling from the deck the day we met?” Molly said, trying to keep his tone light even as the prickles of unease turned into straight up tendrils of mild dread.

“I might,” Sariel said evenly. “What’s it mean?”

“Reversed like this? You’re falling away from your destiny instead of rising towards it, your fate or your past dragging you down instead of pulling you up.”

“Yeah,” Sariel said softly. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate I’d say. Go on.”

Molly pulled the next card. The card was split in half, one half of the card depicting a clear path through a garden of flowers, the sun shining on animals in the grass and birds in the trees. The half that was facing Molly showed a path choked with briars, blood dripping from their thorns and the bones of animals scattered underneath, bare trees with twisted branches reaching up towards a sky black with clouds.

Molly took a sip of his coffee to give himself a moment before he spoke. “The Diverging Path. The path before you is full of hardship, sacrifice, and danger. Which isn’t to say that it can’t be successfully navigated to its end,” he added quickly, trying to offer some sort of reassurance. Only silence met him.

Molly looked up. Sariel’s head was bowed over the table, and as he watched, one tear slid down their cheek and fell, darkening the wood, to be quickly joined by another. They were clenching the edge of the table so tightly that their knuckles were turning white.

“Ariel—Sariel? Hells, listen, we can stop this, we don’t have to keep going.” Molly reached over and touched their hand. It was cold against the heat of him, like touching granite in winter. He shivered, and swore he saw the light of the street lamps nearby flicker and dance as if they were being blown by a nonexistent wind.

“I didn’t think I could cry anymore.” Sariel didn’t lift their head. “Learned something new today.” More tears fell onto the table, but Sariel’s voice sounded curiously even. “The last card. Please.”

Molly slowly withdrew his hand, placed it on the next card in the deck. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he pulled something like Grinning Death or The Dark Tower Fallen. He pulled the last card with trembling fingers and nearly laughed in relief when he saw what it was.

“Oh, The Shrouded Moon! This one isn’t terrible at all, it just means an uncertain outcome or an answer that will come to light eventually or—“

_“I know what it means.”_

Molly shrank back involuntary, the words ringing in his head like bells shattering against ice. It was Celestial, a language he knew because Yasha had taught him, but it sounded discordant and _wrong,_ the syllables so sharp that it was almost painful. Was that how people felt when he cursed them in Infernal?

The table creaked as Sariel’s hands gripped tighter, the wood actually beginning to splinter. Around them the shadows actually seemed to be getting deeper. _“I know what it means, it’s always the same, it always comes down to the same thing. No one knows, no one knows_ ** _anything_** _.”_ They stood, hands still clenching the table, and when their head snapped up to look at Molly, they _changed._ The face that stared back at him had old, white scars that looked like burns aroundtheir mouth and their eyes, and the eyes themselves were no longer green, but completely black. Their hair had gone from dull fox fur to bright and shining red shot through with glimmering silver, like blood on a sword. As Molly watched, unable to move or look away, his heart hammering in his chest, two ghostly wings unfolded from their back, featherless, bones as white as the stars. The wings stretched wide, impossibly large.

“ ** _I just want my light back!_** _”_ It was a shout, and distantly Molly could hear people screaming, running. “ _I just want to know that I’m going to get my light back, my dreams back!_ ** _I miss my dreams!_** _”_ Tears streamed down Sariel’s face, over the scars and the tattoo of stars. There were other scars too, Molly noticed now, the straight lines of cuts, the twisted ones of burns, all old and white, all over their arms and their chest.

_“I’m sorry_ ,” Molly heard himself say, his own accent in Celestial sounding like dark water over dark bells.

The moment broke, and later Molly would wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t said anything at all. Sariel stared at him, black eyes suddenly clearing to reveal eyes as deep a green as pine needles in rain. _“I’m sorry,_ ” they echoed back. Then they said something as they moved their hands, something Molly had only heard Sariel mutter before, that had sounded strangely familiar. A disguise spell, like the ones he had heard Jester and Fjord and Caleb and even Nott use. Suddenly Sariel was as Molly had met them, dull haired, light green eyes, face not marred by scars. They gave him one long, last look, tears streaming down their face, and then they were gone, vaulting over the low wall surrounding the bakery, Freki running beside them.

For what seemed like an eternity Molly could only sit there, heart racing, and then he felt the fear leave him as he scrambled to his feet, adrenaline running through him as he scooped up his cards and tucked them away. He ran off in the direction Sariel had headed, no plan in mind, thoughts spinning dizzily in his head. Sariel had spoken Celestial. Were they an aasimar, like Yasha? Could Yasha do that? Was Sariel dangerous? What would Molly even say if they caught up to them?

There was no sign of Sariel anywhere, and Molly couldn’t even hear the sound of metal against the cobblestone streets that would have given Freki away. Whether through magical means or more mundane ones, Sariel was gone.

***********************

The Harvest’s Close festival was in full swing, and the streets and plazas were filled with people talking and laughing, the crisp autumn air full of the smells of good things to eat and drink. Molly himself had managed to procure not only some hot mulled cider for himself, but a place to sit while he drank it. The ground wasn’t comfortable, and neither was the low wall he was leaning against, but he didn’t mind. He was just grateful for the chance to sit and be alone for a moment. He had spent the whole morning with the rest of the group, pretending he wasn’t preoccupied, one of his better performances if he did say so. It helped that everyone else seemed genuinely happy, even Caleb for a change. Jester had been a little down when she had received a note from Ariel saying that they had been called away suddenly, but she had been caught up in the celebration quickly enough.

Molly had been surprised when he had gone to leave a forged note for Jester early that morning that there was _already_ a note from Jester waiting for her, and a note for him as well, the piece of paper currently tucked up against his deck of cards. When Molly had asked what the person who had left the notes had looked like, the description he got didn’t match Sariel’s at all, but then, it didn’t have to when magic was involved.

“Mind if I sit here?” The voice was full of dry amusement and familiar to Molly as his own coat. He looked up, then up some more, into Yasha’s face with her subtle smile and her mismatched eyes. For an instant Molly could see clearly what she would look like with her eyes gone dark, skeletal wings stretching out behind her.

Yasha sat down cross legged in front of Molly in one smooth and easy motion, smile gone, face full of concern. “Molly? You with me?”

Molly leaned forward and hugged Yasha hard, stretching to rest his forehead on her shoulder. It was an awkward, uncomfortable position, but Molly didn’t care at all.

“Missed you too.” Yasha’s voice was a soft rumble across his skin as she rubbed at his back. “Do you have the words to tell me what’s wrong?”

Molly leaned back, felt himself laugh just a little. “You missed a lot,” he said. “I’m not sure what to tell you first. There were the gnolls in Alfield, and Nott killed a manticore baby, and there were some bandits, and then Jester got a tattoo, and I met someone who I think was _like you_ ,” he said pointedly because there were people around, “who went all black-eyed and skeletal winged after I told them their fortune.”

Molly hadn’t realized that Yasha could get any paler. “One of the Fallen. You met one of the Fallen and you’re _alive_.”

“They ran away, actually,” Molly said. “After apologizing to me.”

“Start at the beginning,” Yasha said.

Molly did, starting with the morning they had first met Sariel at the bakery and ending by pulling out the note that had been left for him at the tavern. There was just one line of script on the page. “I can’t read it,” Molly said. “Jester’s was written in Common, but I have no idea what this says.”

“It’s because I’ve never taught you how to _read_ Celestial,” Yasha said quietly. “It says, ‘don’t become the darkness that you hunt.’” She shook her head and handed the note back to Molly, who slipped it into his pocket once more. “I guess they would know.”

“Yasha, do you know them or something?”

Yasha made a sound that might have been a laugh. “They’re a story. You met a myth, Molly, a genuine cautionary tale that’s been passed down and passed around so much that it’s hard to know what’s truth and what’s not anymore. Except _you_ know.”

“I don’t feel like I know anything,” Molly said. “Care to tell me the tale? Trade you a smoke for it?” He said it both to lighten the mood and because he desperately needed _something_ to take the edge off. He pulled two cigarettes from the pocket of his coat, the blend that tasted of starlight and roses, lit one and passed it to Yasha before lighting his own.

“I remember this,” Yasha said as she blew out a cloud of smoke. “Is this local? Did you buy out the shop yet?”

“I left enough for you,” Molly said. “The story, please.”

“All right. About fifty to seventy-five years ago, accounts vary, an artificer aasimar named Sariel and a band of adventurers whose names have been lost to time—“

“Wait, _fifty years_ ago? I mean, it was hard to tell with the scars and all, but Sariel looked maybe 40?”

Yasha gave Molly a look. “Are you going to interrupt me through the whole story?”

“When I don’t understand something or I have something to add, yes.”

“Fair enough. We— can live a long time.” Yasha didn’t look at him when she said this, and Molly wondered just how old Yasha might be, but he also knew enough not to ask. “May I continue?”

“Please do.”

“So, Sariel and a band of adventurers were traveling near the Ashkeeper Peaks, near the eastern borders of, well, the  Dwendalian Empire, oddly enough, when they were ambushed by clerics of a cult of one of the betrayer gods, the Crawling King.”

Molly would have sworn that he hadn’t known anything about the Crawling King, but as soon as Yasha said the name it felt like his own blood was burning in his veins as memories came to the front of his mind. “A god of torture and dark places,” he said with a snarl in his voice.

“Yes,” Yasha said, the word as hard as stone. “Sariel’s group was captured, dragged underground and tortured and somehow Sariel was the only one to make it out alive to tell the tale. It was said then that sorrow and guilt weighed them down and twisted their heart, turned their clever mind to cruelty, extinguished their light so shadow took its place.”

“They said that they wanted their light back, but I didn’t know if that meant anything beyond the obvious symbology.”

“There’s… different ways of being what we are,” Yasha said. “Sariel was a Scourge, someone filled with a light so strong and powerful that it could literally burn any who stood before it, but it also could burn the wielder as well. That’s why the facial scars you saw. Most Scourge wear masks, actually, not because of the scars per se but to block out the world and focus on containing that power. But once that light went out, once the darkness took its place, Sariel became one of the Fallen. They’re the ones who have lost their guide, lost their way, lost their dreams.” Yasha’s gaze became far away for a moment before returning.

“Anyway, Sariel’s thoughts turned to vengeance, to eradicating the cults of the Crawling King. They built things, torture devices, instruments of pain, and they used those tools to great effect, the stories say. They near eradicated the cults of the Crawling King if even half of the accounts are true.”

“But that’s… that was a good thing, right? I mean—“ Molly imagined what it would be like to be trapped underground, to be tortured. They remembered the scars on Sariel’s body.

“I say yes, but I’m not the one who judges. The problem was, after their vengeance was completed to their satisfaction, Sariel didn’t take proper care in destroying their notes. Artificers are fiercely competitive, and not all of them are moral. Someone found Sariel’s notes and copied them, and the information spread both fast and far. Many years passed and many upon many people died from torture devices made from Sariel’s designs.”

_“_ _I created some things that I shouldn’t have, and then I wasn’t careful with my notes. Things got out of hand rather quickly after that._ _I’d rather you continue to think I’m a good person.”_ Sariel’s words all made sense now.

“And it was said,” Yasha continued. “That once Sariel realized what their desire for vengeance had done, their thoughts turned to redemption instead, and that they took up a quest to destroy everything they had created, and to put an end to the artificers who were still building the devices to this day. And from the sound of what you told me, that part is true.”

_“There’s something I did a long time ago, that I’m still trying to make up for, and I figure if I can put a little beauty and magic back into the world while I set about putting things right, well, that’s a bonus.”_

“Do you think it’s possible?” Molly said quietly. “Redemption, I mean.”

Yasha was quiet for a very long time. “It happens,” she said finally. “It’s not easy, but it can happen. But even if they get redeemed, some bit of that darkness is going to stay with them, I think.”

Molly looked at Yasha. He wanted to ask her if she knew about redemption from experience. He wanted to ask what type of aasimar she was. Were they going to be fighting something some day and suddenly she’d be all black eyes and skeleton wings? And did it matter, really? Yasha was Yasha, dear to his heart no matter what she was.

“Yasha!” Jester’s voice pierced the sound of the crowd. “You came back! And you found Molly!”

Molly put on a grin. “Of course Yasha found me, she always finds me.”

Yasha stood and let Jester hug her. “Molly was just telling me you got a tattoo? I see his influence is rubbing off on you.”

“He’s the best influence!” Jester said with a laugh as she held out her arm. “Look, isn’t it pretty? It’s a hummingbird! Molly says I’m like one.”

“Molly is not wrong,” Yasha said with a little smile. “And that’s beautiful, Jester.”

“It is! Now hurry, Beau signed up for arm wrestling and we need to watch and cheer her on!”

“Bet you five gold that she sees you in the crowd and gets so flustered that she loses,” Molly said to Yasha.

“I’m not taking that bet,” Yasha said as they walked.

“Because you know I’d win,” Molly said cheerfully. “Admit it.”

“I’m not admitting to anything,” Yasha said. She pressed closer to him once they entered the crowd of people and Molly leaned against her, a familiar body for her to focus on with all the unfamiliar people around her. He knew she didn’t like crowds. He listened to Jester chatter and laugh, telling Yasha about gnolls and manticores.He thought about the marks ink left on paper and skin, about clouds covering the moon, the stains of darkness that might be left on a soul. Ink faded and clouds passed, might not stains lessen over time and hard work putting things right? He hoped so, and not just for Sariel’s sake.

Molly’s hand drifted to the note in his pocket. _Don’t become the darkness that you hunt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, notes notes notes. Freki is named after one of Odin's wolves and Munin is one of Odin's ravens. Munin's name means "memory" and I figured that suited.
> 
> The Crawling King is straight out of the Tal'Dorei campaign guide.
> 
> Who here remembers/knows that aasimar come in three different flavors? Scourge and Fallen I described in the fic, more or less, and the third is Protector. I was hoping we'd find out what Yasha was before I posted this, I'm leaning heavily on Scourge currently but I can also totally see Protector. We're just going to have to wait for Ashley to come back from the war and pop some wings or have light pour out of her face. I can't wait.
> 
> I'm angel-ascending over on Tumblr if you want to pop in and say hi!


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